James Beattie

At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
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At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill
And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove.

Old age come on apace to ravage all the clime.

Old age come on apace to ravage all the clime.

And none speaks false, when there in none to hear.

And none speaks false, when there in none to hear.

Be ignorance thy choice, where knowledge leads to woe.

Be ignorance thy choice, where knowledge leads to woe.

And from the prayer of Want, and plaint of Woe,
O never, never turn away their ear!
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And from the prayer of Want, and plaint of Woe,
O never, never turn away their ear!
Forlorn, in this bleak wilderness below,
Ah! what were man, should Heaven refuse to hear!